


MendelsBach smut

by Ace of Smut (AceOfShipping)



Category: Composers - Fandom, Historical - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Composer RPF, Lemon, M/M, ManxMan, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Yaoi, age gap, don't blame me, gay relationship, hot stuff, mendelsbach, please don't throw your wig at me maestro, real historical people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:07:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6582466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceOfShipping/pseuds/Ace%20of%20Smut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless MendelsBach smut. Johann Sebastian Bach and his greatest devotee, Felix Mendelssohn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. MendelsBach smut I

”Herr Bach?” Felix Mendelssohn was searching through the large palace of music, looking for his mentor. Or, rather, his hero. He had written a little piece, a little contrapuntal fugue, not his usual genre, and he wanted Sebastian’s opinion on it. That was, he both wanted it like his most fervent dream and feared it. What if he didn’t like it? Felix would be heartbroken, but he had to try.

“I am here, boy.” A stern voice sounded from one of the side rooms, and Felix halted in his steps, for a moment overcome with a sort of rushed panic. Was his jacket ruffled? Where his pants on the right way? All these things and more went through his mind for several seconds. Bach used the hesitative pause to step out of the room and stand before the younger man, a slight half-smile on his lips.

“Felix? What is it?” He asked almost tentatively. This set Felix’ brain on a sudden rampage.

“I-I-I-I made this!” He held out the music in a rather awkward gesture, arms outstretched so far that he almost touched Sebastian’s broad chest. The older composer smiled, and gently took the offer from Felix’ shaking hands. He was not usually a mild or patient man, but this boy had found his way into a hardened mind, and a weary heart. It was not unusual for Sebastian to receive some manner of music from him, and the old man had to admit that he sometimes searched out the younger composer without letting his presence be known. Just to hear him play.

Now, Sebastian looked at the music, finding himself pleased to a strange degree at the obvious parallels between this piece and those that had come from his own hand. There was an appeal that he didn’t entirely understand. He liked listening to Felix playing his own music, but when those long, slim fingers danced across the clavier to play the distinct contrapuntal works of Sebastian Bach, well, something always stirred in his heart.

“This is good.” He mumbled, looking up only when he heard the relieved sigh that escaped between Felix’ lips. “Come. I will play it.” Sebastian gently grasped Felix’ arm, feeling the younger man tense up before he relaxed and allowed himself to be led into the room from which the other had come. There was a single harpsichord and a desk, but Felix suddenly thought the room very small, and Sebastian very close, when the door closed behind them.

Sebastian played the piece, and he played it so flawlessly, with such virtuosity, that Felix had to fight the urge to grasp those hands, those broad and yet nimble fingers, and feel them between his own.

The fingers stopped, and it took a while to realise that Sebastian had finished playing. Felix was absolutely mesmerized, and barely even looked up when the older composer rose from the piano bench. He did look up, however, when a strong hand was placed beneath his chin, urging him to.

A gentle kiss was placed upon his lips, a tentative soft touch of skin against skin. Like a breath of air. It was momentary, then Sebastian withdrew, scrutinizing Felix’ face for anything that showed what the young man was feeling, anything at all. In all truth, the old composer was worried that his feelings, fluttering and unusual as they were, would not be accepted and were not reciprocated. He might have spared himself the concern.

Felix slowly, almost hesitantly, grasped the edges of Sebastian’s open coat and pulled him close again, so close that they were pressing against each other. For a long, tortuous moment, they lips hovered so close that their breaths intermingled, but finally Sebastian leaned in, capturing Felix’ lips in a sweet, gentle open-mouthed kiss. He felt the younger man gasp involuntarily as he took his hands and their fingers entwined. They were so soft and yet so strong, those fingers, fitting so perfectly between his own broader, more calloused digits.

Felix was not leading on, he was hesitating on the threshold, and it was Sebastian who pushed him over by pressing so close that the younger man involuntarily leaned against the harpsichord and spread his legs just slightly. Just enough for Sebastian to fit between them.

“Herr Bach…” The whisper broke their kiss, and there was a moment of pause.

“Felix. Call me Sebastian.” The elder man said, before lavishing his attention on Felix’ pulse, tracing it with gentle lips down his neck to the cravat of his shirt. There, he halted briefly, asking for permission.

“S-Sebastian, p-please-“ the whispered plea was all that was needed.

Slowly, while pressing another, more demanding kiss, to Felix’ lips, Sebastian unbuttoned his shirt, feeling trembling hands returning the favor.  
Their kisses turned heated, increasing in ferocity through the burning passions of Sebastian’s temper as he led the fumbling Felix with a strong guiding hand. That hand was very soon more than guiding.

In spite of his apparent sureness, the older composer was less than certain of his actions. They were led by want and urge rather than by experience, for he had little when it came to this sort of thing between two men. Still, it felt right by him when he reached down and gentle palmed at the front of Felix’ trousers. The reaction he got was all he had wished for and more.

“A-ah!” The younger man gasped and wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s neck in an iron grip, forcing the older man as close as he would come.

“Shh.” Sebastian gently shushed him, sensing the need to go forward with caution. It seemed evident that Felix did not have an overwhelming amount of experience in this department. Sebastian gently began stroking him through the fabric, his movements slow and careful. Simultaneously, his free hand sneaked up to cup his young love’s flushed cheek, and he pressed a kiss to his lips, silencing the gasps for a brief instant. He had all but pacified the young man, it seemed, and he was pleased with himself for it. After a short while, he opened his trousers and sneaked his hand within them, grasping Felix gently.

It took only a few pumps and the occasional brush of his rough thumb over a sensitive nipple for Felix to spill himself over Sebastian’s hand with a surprisingly hoarse moan.

While Felix was recovering, the elder man loosened the cloth which he wore around his neck, and took it off to use for cleaning them both. He had scarcely managed that before he felt searching hands against the bulge in his own breeches.

“Felix, you don’t… ah... you don’t have to –“ He was silenced when one of those hands opened the front of his garment and freed him from the constrictions. Long, slim fingers, surprisingly cold, were wrapped around him. Long, sure strokes soon began. “Mein gott, Felix…”  
Sebastian placed both hands flat against the surface of the harpsichord, determined in spite of his shaking legs to stay upright. He could feel the hand, that was not busy stroking him, move upwards, fingers tracing the sensitive skin on his back, sending shivers down his spine and heat pooling in his loins.

Suddenly his lips were claimed in a sweet, gentle and chaste kiss, such a startling contrast to the constant languid strokes of that long, slim hand. Finally, feeling his body stiffen, Sebastian let go and tipped over the edge, his fingers curling with the sensation of being coaxed through his orgasm with unfaltering touches and gentle kisses peppered over his cheeks, mouth and neck.

He finally relaxed, almost collapsing against his partner, though he managed to keep himself upright. He did not have the stamina that he used to.  
After a moment of cleaning himself up, and then discarding the used cloth onto the floor, Felix spoke.

“Sebastian, do you… do you love me?” He asked, almost as though he was afraid of the answer.

“Yes.” Came the unfaltering reply, which was sealed with a ferocious kiss, a statement:

You are mine.


	2. MendelsBach Smut II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More smut. In a broom closet.

Felix didn’t avoid Sebastian as such, but he found himself trying to avoid touching the other composer, even if it was mere brushes of an arm against an arm. He was terrified of the possibility that one of the others would spot something, see something, that would give them away.  
He wasn’t sure why he feared it so much. But he did.

Sebastian, on the other hand, was getting very, very tired of hiding. Every time Felix avoided his gaze, or chose a different path through a room to avoid getting close to him, he was deeply hurt. But somehow, through instinct or skill, he had a feeling as to why. This was the reason that, one day, he simply followed Felix through the hallways, sneaking – him, sneaking! – to avoid being discovered. Only when the younger man turned a corner and entered a small passage did Sebastian strike.

He sped up, grasped his shoulders and pinned him against the wall. Before Felix could protest, demanding lips were pressed against his own, silencing him. A pair of strong hands held him firmly in place, and unwittingly his arms wrapped around Sebastian, sneaking under his jacket to get a proper grip.

The elder composer sighed gently against Felix’ lips, the younger man’s arms holding him so tightly that it almost hurt – oh, but it was glorious! He had hungered for this for days; he was a starving man.

Ravenous, as it were. And all he needed was right here before him.

Demanding kisses turned hungry, and hungry turned almost sloppily, mindlessly needy. Their movements became urgent, bodies pressing against each other, instinctively yearning for friction.

That was when Sebastian spotted someone out of the corner of his eye. He briefly broke away, regretting the loss of the softness of Felix’ lips. There was someone looking at them with wide eyes, and a pink wig.

“Go away, Wolfgang.” His voice was slightly more hoarse than he would have liked, but his tone was not to be misunderstood. He was showing that distinct side of himself that he had so often used with his sons. Go away. Do not argue. Or so help me.

The youth obeyed, turning on his heels and almost running down a parallel corridor.

When Sebastian returned his gaze to the man in his arms, he sighed. Felix was staring fixedly in the direction in which Wolfgang had disappeared.

“Who will he tell?” The whisper was barely audible.

“Everyone.” Sebastian answered truthfully, his heart sinking when he was met with a frightened gaze.

“Felix…” He began, then licked his suddenly dry lips, “… if you… do not wish for them to know, I will ensure that you hear no more of it.” his words were hesitant, but he meant it. If Felix would be happier that way then, well, he would oblige. Not happily, but he would oblige. “However, I cannot help but feel that it would not be the right decision, not by me.”

“I…” Felix faltered on the word. With hesitant movements, he let his hands run up, caressing Sebastian’s sides and chest before entangling themselves at his cravat, “Hold me.”

Sebastian obliged, gently wrapping his arms around his young lover, enveloping him in a soft, warm embrace. “I love you.” He whispered, lips hovering just above the silken skin of Felix’ neck. He got a whimper in return, a needy sound, and moments later he felt tentative lips on his pulse, tracing it along his throat, upwards, until they met in a ravishing, open-mouthed kiss. For once it was Sebastian whose legs began to grow weaker, as Felix’ hands roamed his body, sneaking beneath his shirt to find warm skin, drawing goosebumps wherever the cold fingertips touched. All the while, he was kissing the sense out of the older composer.

“Sebastian…” The kiss was broken in favor of words, much to their mutual displeasure.

“… Yes?” His voice was unusually growly, as though it didn’t want to talk at all. He pressed an almost chaste kiss against Felix’ lips, in the vague hope that it would stop him from wasting his breath on talking. It didn’t.

“Mmh, we’re in a hallway.” Felix sounded as though he wanted, wanted, beyond words, “We need to – hahh – we need to m-move.” He couldn’t get the sentence out straight, mostly because Sebastian had decided to taste the soft skin of the nape of his neck, taking the liberty to let his teeth gently nip, leaving a reddening mark.

“Quite.” Sebastian sighed, stepping away from Felix with great regret. If he had had his way, he would have had him right here, not caring about the world, but he would acquiesce to the request.

The nearest room was a broom closet, something which amused Sebastian for a moment. That was, until Felix closed the door and backed him against the wall. Suddenly their places were reversed, and Sebastian found himself utterly incapacitated, feeling fingertips wandering everywhere, lips finding exactly where they needed to be, as he was slowly undressed to expose his skin to the man before him.

Sebastian’s knees finally gave in when Felix’ tongue ghosted over his left nipple, while his nimble hand cupped at the front of Sebastian’s bulging breeches. Slowly sliding to the floor, the older composer found himself straddled, pinned in position as Felix slowly began to undress himself before him. Thick, calloused fingers were raised to brush against young, soft arms, up to wiry shoulders, a firm chest, stomach, and, finally, he freed him from his trousers. The favor was immediately returned.

Felix moved forward just a little, bringing them so close that they touched. It was the slightest thing, but their lips met in a faltering, needy kiss as Sebastian’s hand wrapped around them both. Felix began moving, his eyes closed and his brows tightly knit as he rutted against his lover.  
Their lovemaking was wordless, almost soundless, except for the most primal of sounds – gasps, moans and incoherent pleas. Their faces were scrunched up, as if the pleasure lay so endlessly close to pain, a deep ache in their chests, as well as their loins. 

“Maestro…” Felix whispered, and Sebastian smiled at the sensation this whisper brought to his body. Hearing himself addressed in such a way was… it felt overwhelmingly good.

Following the line thus laid, he raised his vacant hand to caress Felix’ chin and urge him to lean forward slightly, their lips hovering achingly close to each other’s. “Felixschen.”, the endearment rolled over his tongue so easily, he almost thought it natural. A given.  
The young man bucked his hips, holding on to Sebastian as he came. His grip was so tight, it would leave marks on the elder’s back. Scratching marks, ten red lines with a sting that Sebastian would be secretly thrilled at feeling for the next few days.

Finally, Felix collapsed against him, breathing heavily as he came down from his high, grounded by two strong hands languidly caressing his back and shoulders, and the steady breathing of the man to whom they belonged. It took several moments before he realized that he had, once again, finished first. His maestro’s needs were still unfulfilled. Felix sat up straight, still straddling his lover.

“Sebastian…” He almost stuttered on the name, finding the sheer impact of speaking it, the name of the man he loved, overwhelming. The older composer looked up at him with a serene smile, little wrinkles appearing around his eyes. Felix noted everything, loved everything. He gently pressed a kiss to the other man’s lips, before slowly trailing downwards, to his neck, collarbone, chest – a gentle graze of teeth against a sensitive nipple earned him a deep, throaty moan – downwards until his lips met with something quite different, warm and firm.

“F-Felix –“, whatever Sebastian was about to say, it was cut short when he felt soft lips envelop him. Soft lips and a silken tongue. He let out something between a groan and an animalistic hiss as a jolt of pleasure went from his loins to his stomach, ending in his head almost like a champagne-induced lightness. As the warmth of Felix’ mouth coaxed from him one uncontrollable moan after the other, though he struggled to hush them, he felt a burning sensation, a searing pleasure almost too intense to bear. He wanted more, and yet he wasn’t sure how much more he could take before he burst into flames.

It didn’t feel like flames. It felt like tingling, at first, rising in his body to an excruciating crescendo, and strange lights flickered in the periphery of his vision and he came, unable to restrain himself.

He fell back, unaware that he had bolted upright in his ecstasy, breathing heavily with limbs that felt momentarily like lead.

“Ich liebe dich.” Felix claimed his lips in a tentative kiss that soon turned languid, slow, and satisfied. Sebastian could taste himself on his young lover’s tongue, and if he had been just a decade younger, it would have been enough to refuel him. He was too old for that now, though.

When their lips parted, he gently cupped Felix’ cheek. It took him a long moment to get the words over his lips, they weighed so much – his throat thickened and his breath hitched, those words meant the world.  
“Ich liebe dich.”


End file.
